Oh thank God.
And yes, I mean God with a capital G.
This spring, Oscar Mayer changed the Wienermobile’s name to the Frankmobile. It was weird, and at the time, it was concerning, because it was hard to push back against it without coming across as a guy who’s a little too obsessed with wieners. You can only say “I just found the Wienermobile to be fun and comforting” so many times before you make people think you’re either A) a real pervert, B) the kind of guy who refuses to pronounce menu items correctly at Mexican restaurants even if you know how the names are pronounced, or C) both. We hoped the name would return, and the name did, and it returned in a pretty quiet way, which is a sign that Oscar Mayer maybe overestimated the uproar the name change would elicit. It seems like Oscar Mayer wanted to be forced to change the name back. This reads more like a retreat. The lesson? Plenty of people will like a post on social media demanding that the Wienermobile change its name back to Wienermobile. Fewer people will share it. Share those posts too many times, and we’re back to multiple choice land.
Thankfully, I’ve never had too near of a near-death experience. One time when I was eight and I smoked a fly ball in the backyard but it hit a tree before I could see if it cleared the street, I was so pissed about it I accidentally walked in front of a convertible when my brother did hit a ball across the street two pitches later. Thankfully, the driver saw the eight-year-old and the crisis was averted. That’s the nearest I’ve knowingly come to dying. But! I do understand the sensation of having a renewed appreciation for something after thinking you’d lost it, and I sure as heck appreciate that Wienermobile.
Not a weird amount, though.
It’s fun and comforting, ok?
I swear I’m not a pervert.
